


It's not all black and white

by Dancingdog



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of a drug overdose, Soulmates AU, blind!Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6163636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancingdog/pseuds/Dancingdog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is happily married with a wife and step-son and his world couldn't be brighter. He's living a life he never imagined he could have after the death of both parents and then, it's like a switch has been flipped and Dean's life is plunged back into black and white. The next thing he knows, spots of colour begin to draw his attention and it's all because of a man with golden eyes and an affinity for lollipops.</p><p>Meanwhile, Sam Winchester, blinded by shrapnel at the age of 12, views the world in a very different way. He knows he will never see colour and he's okay with that. Truly. What he's not okay with, is the jerk who keeps insisting that he's his soulmate after they bumped into each other at the park, because really, there's only so many times a blind man can hear that line before he starts throwing things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Life without colour, Dean decided, wasn't really a life at all. 

As the older Winchester paused the polishing of his beloved '67 Impala, he surveyed the vibrant greens of the trees, the calming blues and whites of the sky, the brilliant oranges and yellows of the surrounding flowers and counted his blessings that his life had been turned around so amazingly.

The Winchesters had had a tough upbringing, with their mother dying in a house fire when Dean was four and Sam six months old, to their father finding out that the fire hadn't been the accident everyone had believed it to be and had set off after the man that had shattered his world, leaving his youngest sons alone for months at a time.

John Winchester eventually found the villain; a man with cloudy yellow eyes that suggested he didn't see the world quite like everyone else did and just as he was about to use his marine training to wipe the guy from existence, he was brought down by a bullet from a faceless man in the shadows.

Thus, Sam and Dean Winchester were left to face the world on their own at the tender ages of ten and fourteen.

They had always had the company of Uncle Bobby when it was needed, of course, and the local bar's landlady, Ellen, had practically taken them in as a second mother. So in that respect, they'd gained a little sister, Jo, and an aunt and uncle.

When the yellow-eyed man returned to their little hometown in Kansas, Dean had vowed to take revenge for his father's death. Sam hadn't had the same relationship with their father as Dean had, but he loved his brother and would do anything for him.

So at twelve and sixteen, they set off after the 'Yellow-eyed man' even though they didn't actually know what yellow looked like.

See, when people are born, they aren't born with the ability to see with colour, merely shades of black and white. Only if and when you meet your soulmate, do you begin to see what the world truly looks like.

Now to say that a person could only ever have one soulmate in the universe would be a rather impossible (and pretty daunting) dream. However, it didn't mean that everyone was guaranteed to find their potential partner, even if they had more than one. That's why there were still many people who divorced or had never seen the world in its true beauty.

That didn't mean to say that people who weren't soul mates couldn't be happily married. There were plenty of people who had lived well into their nineties together and had never seen the world in colour. In fact, a lot of people had given up trying to find their perfect match and had resigned themselves to the fact that they may never be able to see anything beyond monochrome.

The saddest cases were when a person finally met their soulmate and their world brightened, only for everything to drain of colour bit by bit when their other half died. Sometimes, if the death was sudden, the partner's vision would plummet sharply into grey and these were the most traumatic of cases.

That's how John had found out about Mary. He'd never been the same afterwards.

Eventually, Sam and Dean located the yellow-eyed man (based on reports of the few lucky people who could actually see colour) and as they trailed him into an old service station, the pumps rusty and disused, they failed to notice the man following them and just as Dean was about to take the shot, similar to how his father had, there was a deafening bang and a blinding flash of light.

The next thing Dean knew, he was in hospital and had been for a week. He demanded to be taken to Sam and when the nurse's face fell in sympathy, Dean's heart plummeted to his stomach.

He found Sam lying in a cold hospital bed, looking small and fragile with the multitude of bandages wrapped around his face, body still.

A couple of months later, Sam was released from hospital with the prognosis that he'd never be able to see again.

Dean blamed himself even as Sam told him to stop beating himself up over something that wasn't his fault.

Both boys still carried a few scars from the explosion of shrapnel, but Sam had adapted to life well as a blind man and although Dean still felt guilty, his little brother had assured him enough that he never had and never would blame Dean for what happened.

Which is why it was rather anticlimactic that four years after Sam's accident, the yellow-eyed man and his henchman (now identified as Azazel and Alistair) were found rotting in an abandoned warehouse from a drug overdose (also a possible cause of the yellow-eyed man's eyes being, well, _yellow_ ).

Back to the present day and Sam was studying at Stanford in order to be a big-shot lawyer and Dean was a proud big brother and loving husband and father to wife Lisa and step-son Ben.

"Dad? You gonna keep staring at the clouds all day or you coming in for lunch?"

Dean blinked and tore his eyes away from the rolling sea of blue and white to grin at who had become his oblivious ten-year old. Some day he would know what it was like to touch your soul mate and have your eyes opened to the world around you.

"Alright, alright. Tell your mom I'm coming. I'll just throw this back in the garage." He held up the polishing rag and Ben nodded eagerly as he darted inside the house.

Dean huffed quietly in amusement as he made his way to the aforementioned garage, only to laugh when he heard Lisa call through the house.

"You better take off those boots before you even think of stepping in this house, Winchester."

"Of course, Mrs. Winchester," he shouted back, loving the way the title rolled off his tongue.

He had never thought he would be the type to live the apple pie life, complete with a white picket fence, a wife and a kid, but now that he had managed to stumble his way into it, he couldn't imagine anything else.

When he'd first bumped into the yoga instructor at a musty dive bar, he'd only been looking for a quick roll in the hay. They'd flirted and it seemed that Lisa was looking for a way to forget the toxic relationship she'd managed to escape merely four months previous along with her one-year old baby.

They left the bar and entered Dean's apartment and as soon as Dean had shut the door, the pair crashed into each other in a mixture of hungry lips and wandering hands and when they pulled apart, the world looked a little different.

Confusing colours dotted around the room and the pair were too stunned to continue their fevered grasping as their surroundings changed around them.

Nine years later and here Dean was, married and with a house that actually had matching furniture (it's amazing what bad decisions you can make when you can't see the colours and designs of the things you buy).

He kicked his boots off and padded into the kitchen, sliding his arms around Lisa's waist as he pressed gentle kisses to her neck.

Lisa closed her eyes and relaxed into his strong chest as she finished transferring the waffles onto their plates.

Dean inhaled deeply and sighed contentedly.

"Mmmm... smells good. Maybe I should let you cook more often."

Lisa flicked a stray slither of batter at him.

"You're not the only one who knows how to use a kitchen." 

"The question is: Am I the best?" He winked as Ben gagged at the table.

"Ewww. You guys are disgusting."

"All grown-ups are disgusting. You will be too, some day," teased Dean as he ruffled Ben's hair and sat down, stealing a kiss from Lisa as she placed his lunch in front of him. " _Oooh, blueberries._ "

Ben pulled a face. "No I won't. You're just old and mushy."

Dean pulled his tongue out as Lisa snickered quietly.

"Less of the _'old'_ , wise guy," he growled playfully as Ben pulled out his own tongue.

"Did you tell your dad what happened yesterday at school?" Lisa asked and Ben beamed.

"I got an 'A' on my science test! The teacher said I was the best out of the whole class!"

Dean grinned. "That's awesome, buddy! Told you could do it."

Ben's face contorted into a mixture of thoughtfulness and scheming as he focused on Dean.

"Mom said we could go for ice-cream if I got an 'A'," he said and Lisa blinked.

"Funny. I don't remember saying that," she said drily and Dean chuckled as Ben copied the puppy-dog expression he'd learned from his Uncle Sam.

"Pleeeeeease?"

"Alright. We can go for ice-cream. _Tomorrow_ ," Dean added as he eyed Ben pointedly. "You have homework to finish."

"I could do my homework tomorrow!"

"Thought we agreed Saturdays were for homework?" Reminded Lisa and Ben pouted.

"Fine."

He stabbed at his waffle disappointedly.

Dean shook his head as he shared a look with Lisa and they finished their meal with idle chat about the things they needed to do over the weekend.

Ben left the table and, despite his original protests, started straight away on his homework as Dean and Lisa cleaned the dishes.

"You said you had to go to the garage tomorrow morning?" Lisa asked as Dean grabbed the towel.

"Yeah. Rufus has a Doctor's appointment and Bobby asked me to do a couple of hours in the morning to cover his shift. That okay?"

"Depends," hummed Lisa lightly. "Is that Rhonda Hurley going to ask you to inspect her Beetle again?"

Dean chuckled. "I don't know... maybe I'll get lucky and she'll ask me to fix her cylinders."

Lisa shoved at his chest. "You better not check her cylinders or I'll have to chop off your exhaust."

Dean laughed, warm and bright as he tugged her into a sloppy kiss, which she immediately used as an excuse to feel up his rear.

They pulled apart slightly and Dean raised an interested eyebrow.

"You're a bad influence."

"You're past saving," she purred as they kissed a little more heatedly, hands beginning to roam.

"You know, I can hear you guys," came a call from the living room and Dean and Lisa broke apart, giggling and breaths slightly heavy as they continued washing up, cheeks rosy.

"We were talking about cars," shouted Dean and he swore he heard a _'yeah, right'_ , but he didn't question it. That kid was too perceptive for his own good sometimes.

A few moments later, Lisa drained the sink and wiped her hands on the towel.

"Well, if you're working tomorrow morning, I'll take Ben with me to post that letter."

"Oh yeah. That for that Uriel guy? The writer?"

Lisa rolled his eyes. "Journalist and with any luck, my new boss." She smiled half-hearedly. "Fingers crossed."

Dean placed his hand on her hips as he kissed her head.

"You'll be fine. You won't need any luck."

Lisa sighed quietly as she enjoyed the feeling of his strong arms holding her.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Dean held her a little closer; he knew she was thinking of her disaster of an ex and Dean swore that if he ever came into contact with the man, he would teach him a lesson for treating his wife and son like dogs. He would throw in a special punch for the handprint Lisa had temporarily gained across her cheek all those years ago.

"I love you too," he whispered and Lisa smiled tenderly at him.

"I remember when you told me you were frightened of raising Ben," she murmured softly after a moment and Dean glanced to his step-son, hunched over his books as he tapped a pencil on his lip, tongue peeking out slightly.

"I didn't think I'd be able to raise a kid after seeing how dad raised me and Sammy. I thought I'd fall into his traps," admitted Dean quietly and Lisa pressed their mouths together sweetly.

"You did a pretty good job raising Sam. You're doing well with Ben. I couldn't have asked for anyone better."

"Have I told you how good you are at stroking my ego? Because you are really fantastic at that."

Lisa shook her head in amusement as she pulled away, but as she tried to leave the kitchen, Dean grabbed her from behind.

"Where are you going?" He nuzzled at her neck as Lisa huffed.

"I can't stay here and amuse you all day. I've got housework to do."

Dean pouted, a soft protest escaping his lips.

"And _you_ promised to mow the lawn _and_ clean the garage. Or did you think I'd forgotten?"

Dean groaned and pulled back.

"Killjoy," he muttered as Lisa smirked at him, making shooing motions with her hands.

"I'm going, I'm going," he said as he held up his hands in defeat.

Ben high-fived his mother as she walked past.

 

* * *

 

"'Kay, I'm leaving!" Dean called as he inspected the slithers of pinks and greens in a tiny marble figurine on the windowsill.

"Okay. We might still be at the office when you get back. Ben's taking forever to find his socks."

Ben shouted a _"Hey!"_ and Lisa chuckled, making Dean smile as he opened the door.

"Don't kill each other whilst I'm gone," teased Dean as he heard a light thump from upstairs and Ben and Lisa responded in unison.

"We won't!"

He made his way down their garden, smiling at the luscious greens and warm reds and paused to take in the sight of the Impala's glossy black paintwork.

He'd seen that deep black before he'd met Lisa, but the backdrop of blues and greens and oranges made her shining curves and chrome piping stand out that much more.

He slipped into the driver's seat and relished the thunderous roar of her engine as he backed out of the driveway.

Colours of all different shades and intensities zoomed past the window and before he knew it, Dean was at Bobby's garage and his mindset fell into mechanic mode.

A few customers rolled their cars into the shop (none of which where Rhonda) and Dean quickly fixed their problems and got paid for his efforts. Dean was the best mechanic that Bobby had and it showed in his customer's happy smiles and generous tips. 

After three hours, Rufus relieved him and thanked him for covering his shift and Dean popped his head into Bobby's house to tell him he was leaving.

The gruff mechanic nodded his head and told Dean he'd see him the next day, reminding him to bring his wife and son around for the barbecue they were having the following weekend.

Dean rolled his eyes as he left. "Sure, Bobby. I won't forget."

"You better not. I do want to see my adopted grandson sometimes," huffed the older man and Dean shook his head as he made his way to his car.

He carefully backed out of the yard and made the journey back to his house, turning up the radio when ACDC's _'Highway to Hell'_ blared through the speakers.

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat, singing slightly off-key when the chorus started and then suddenly, Dean's whole world plunged into black and white.

The car swerved violently and Dean swore as he tried to comprehend what had happened. The car skidded to a halt and Dean staggered out, falling to his knees, not caring when they scraped the unforgiving gravel.

He glanced around desperately, searching for any signs of colour, but when there wasn't a single flash, his subconscious registered what that meant and he vomited. 

"Ben," he mumbled hoarsely and he stumbled back into the car, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he fumbled to start the ignition.

He could see his house, standing peaceful and calm when his phone rang and for a second, Dean believed that nothing was wrong, despite his altered vision.

The car slowed as he answered his phone and a woman's voice filtered through. She was patient and confident as she asked "Is this Dean Winchester, partner of Lisa Winchester?"

Dean managed a croaked _"Yes,"_ his brain already assuming what was to come even as his heart refused to accept it.

"I'm sorry," she began.

Dean broke down.


	2. Chapter 2

It was possible for soul mates to change; after all, our life experiences shape us and make us who we are, meaning your soulmate from when you were twenty and naive isn't going to be your soulmate when you are fifty and have served in the army for twenty years.

Because of this, people had affairs, marriages sometimes fell apart and other times, colours may fade or dim and some may not even be visible at all.

Usually though, for a person's world to lose colour completely, either the person's personality and ideals had to change radically until they were a mere shadow of their former self, or, in the worst cases, their soulmate would die and leave them broken hearted.

It was possible to have partial colour sight when you were constantly in contact with someone who was not quite your perfect match and sometimes, the people involved would have their ideas moulded into one another until they thought (and sometimes acted) like each other. These times, their vision would brighten with colours bit by bit, until the universe looked like a very different place and they became true soul mates.

Sam, of course, would never know what the world looked like in colour, and he could only remember certain parts of it in black and white. This was because he was blind, and always would be.

It didn't stop him from going to University though. Didn't stop him from studying to be a lawyer. Didn't stop him from going out with his friends. It didn't stop him from finding a girlfriend and it certainly didn't stop him from visiting his brother and sister-in-law and his nephew when his studies permitted him.

It also didn't stop him from collapsing when he first heard of the car crash that took Lisa and Ben's lives.

He rushed to his brother's side the very same day, for once not caring what his professors thought of him and when the brothers were alone in Dean's empty house, too large for a single person to dwell in alone, they grieved together.

A single day later, Sam's phone rang, the caller ID informing him that his girlfriend Jessica (who he hadn't yet told of the tragedy) was contacting him.

"I've found my match. Sorry, Sam." And just like that, Sam's world was ripped out from under his feet.

The brothers were alone once more; in their greatest time of need, they had no one to turn to.

Sure, they had Bobby and Ellen and Jo, but they couldn't just go back to living with them again. Living with your adoptive parents was all fine and good when you were a kid, but when you were a widow with a mortgage to pay, or a mature student studying halfway across the country, things became a little trickier.

The funeral rolled around, Dean not even being able to see the bodies of his wife and son one last time in the Chapel of rest, because of how mangled they were after wrapping the car around a semi. Sam paid his respects and was forced to return to university for fear of being kicked off the course, Bobby extended a hand to Dean if he ever needed to get out of the suddenly empty house and Ellen extended a hand in case Bobby's place proved too messy to even see the floor.

Dean's life carried on.

It was difficult for all of them. The gaping hole in their hearts that had been left by Lisa and Ben would probably never be filled.

Dean didn't want anyone else to fill it.

He took up drinking, if only to soothe the ache just a little. He found himself walking into questionable dive bars, where the regular patrons wouldn't know his face and wouldn't ask him how he was doing. He drew into himself, didn't talk all that much to people (except his brother and close family) and he would be lying if he said there weren't days he had thought about how easy it was to put a bullet in his head and all the pain would be over.

His brother suggested a therapist, but Dean didn't want to talk to some stranger about the two people he'd held dearest in life, so he never went to one.

After six years on his own, Dean started hooking up with one night stands, too afraid (and not wanting) to pursue another committed relationship. What if he lost them like he had Lisa and Ben? No, he couldn't go through that again.

Still, he missed the intimacy of waking up with someone in your arms, missed hearing the steady rhythm of someone's heartbeat as it lulled you to sleep.

He missed warmth,

Eventually, girls began to hear of Dean Winchester; the man who treated you with respect after a hot bout of sex, and ladies everywhere lined up in the shadows to have their turn with the dream customer.

They would flirt with him, sleep with him and the next morning, Dean would make them breakfast, chat with them for a little bit and then they would leave for another night on the prowl, after Dean had paid them, of course.

Some guys even tried it on with him, but Dean made it quite clear that he had never been and never would be interested in that sort of thing.

That earned him a few disappointed glances from the local gigolos. 

Still, after all this, Dean was unhappy. He felt like his life had become meaningless, like he was just going through the motions. He would never get over his wife and son's deaths, he knew that, but he was still fairly young and he didn't want his life to be a waste.

He admitted all of this to Lisa as he dropped some white lilies at her graveside.

This was one thing he liked to do. He liked to talk to Lisa and Ben, when no one was around in the cemetery and it was just him and the birds breaking the silence.

He would chat to his wife and son, cross-legged in front of the headstone with a little angel inscribed on it and he would discuss with them what was going on at the auto-shop, how well Sam was doing now that he'd graduated and how proud he was, how Bobby and Ellen and Jo were doing. He would also tell them some of the bad things, like his one night stands and he apologised to them both over and over, knowing that he would be doing the exact same thing this time next week.

He asked how they were doing, even though he knew he wouldn't get a response, but it felt good to ask. Felt like they were still there, listening to him. 

He stayed with them for two hours, watching and listening and waiting for something, anything to snap him out of this nightmare.

Once again, nothing happened.

So he stood, kissed two fingers and pressed them to the headstone and slowly made his way out of the cemetery, heart heavy and thoughts in a dark place.

He needed a drink.

He forced his feet to take him to a seedy bar, where the beer was always warm and the snacks too salty, but the lighting was dim enough for no one to recognise his face and that's what he needed. He didn't want to talk to anybody today.

He ordered one of the lukewarm beers and sipped at it with a grimace.

"Well you look like a bundle of joy."

Dean blinked at the man who had taken it upon himself to sit beside him at the bar.

"Rough day at work?" The stranger asked as he glanced down a list of fruity cocktails.

Dean raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he turned back to his drink. People in this back alley bar didn't usually talk to each other in case it cost you a finger. The regulars of this bar weren't very tolerant of others.

The man, who Dean realised was much shorter than him, ordered his cocktail and frowned at it when it came back looking like someone had scraped the bottom of a tin of tomatoes to make it.

"Not very talkative, are you?" 

Dean glanced at the other man, wondering why he was so insistent on getting an answer out of him.

"Gabriel," the man said after a beat as he offered his hand.

Dean eyed it warily for a second before taking it with his own.

"Dean."

This was enough to make Gabriel grin and that smile must have been the brightest Dean had ever seen in this part of town.

"So, Deano. What made you so forlorn today? Boss being a jerk? Mine is."

Dean wasn't really interested in telling his life story to a complete stranger, so he merely shrugged. 

"Nothing."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I see. So this is your usual behaviour? Looking like someone just kicked your puppy."

Dean pulled a face. "I don't like dogs," he said before wondering why he had admitted that.

Gabriel grinned again. "Why's that?"

"Got attacked by one when I was younger." Why was he saying all these things to someone he didn't even know? Maybe it was the sincerity in Gabriel's eyes that let him know he wasn't out to trick Dean. 

Maybe he did need someone to talk to.

Gabriel hissed in sympathy. "Not a big lover of cats, myself."

"Allergic," said Dean with a half-hearted wave of his hand.

Gabriel made a hum of acknowledgement before eying his catastrophic cocktail like it might bite him.

"I wouldn't touch that," muttered Dean and Gabriel nodded as he slid it half way across the bar.

The bartender scowled at him before she went back to picking her nails.

Gabriel fished in his pocket for something before pulling out a lollipop, which he quickly lodged in his mouth.

"Want one?" He asked, offering a stick to Dean.

Dean shook his head in amusement. "No thanks. I'm more of a pie person."

"Ah, well. I can't fit one of those in my pocket."

Gabriel sucked his sweet for a little bit as he glanced around the bar, during which, Dean had time to observe the other man.

He wasn't exactly smartly dressed, but it was casual enough that he didn't fit in with the rest of the bar. The guy's attitude didn't mesh with the regular crowd either and if he wanted that kind of drink, there were tons of clubs that served a fantastic cocktail.

"I wouldn't peg you for the seedy bar type," said Dean after a while and Gabriel's attention snapped back to him. His eyes were intense.

"Nor I, you."

Dean blinked. He hadn't expected that but then, when he thought about what he was wearing (he had to be relatively smart for visiting Lisa and Ben) and his clean shaven jaw (usually the people in here had beards down to their ankles) and actually presentable hairstyle, he could understand why Gabriel thought that.

"It's not my regular hangout," Dean admitted and Gabriel got this calculating look in his eyes, one that reeked of mischief.

"Here's the deal, Deano. I'm pretty new here. I don't really know the social scene. You willing to show me around?"

Dean blinked. He could use a friend that didn't want to get into his pants and Gabriel seemed like an okay guy.

"Sure," he agreed as they stood and Gabriel slapped a fiver on the bar top as they left, to the astonishment of the bartender.

"Keep the change," he threw over his shoulder as Dean led him outside and into the evening shadows.

 

* * *

 

Sam had always understood that if Jessica were to find her true soulmate, it would have been unfair of him to hold her back when she had already admitted that she could only partially see in colour when they were together. That's why when his roommate, Brady, had turned up at their dorm, Jessica by his side, Sam had waved off all their apologies and forced a smile as he said that they were suited to each other and he wished them all the best for their future. 

The couple had seemed happy with that and Jessica hugged him in gratitude as they started their new life together, without Sam.

When the door closed behind them, Sam let his head fall into his hands and he mourned for not only the loss of his brother's happiness, but his as well.

Now, eight years down the line, with his alcoholic brother seemingly on the verge of sex-addiction, Sam had learned how to navigate the world using nothing but a hand and a funny-looking stick.

He had always hoped, in the deepest cavity of his heart, that Jessica would be there to help him (only when he needed it), but now he thinks this selfish of his younger self and his steep-learning curve taught him how to depend on himself and only himself to get him around town. 

He listens, thinks carefully and feels his way around streets and shops, sometimes asking to make sure he is on the correct track.

His brother told him on many occasions that if he needed help, it would always be there, but Dean needs to live his own life and Sam cannot depend on his brother forever. So Sam always nods his head at these uncharacteristically emotional moments from his brother and carries on with the life he's grown accustomed to, even if it gets difficult sometimes.

Sam padded along the dirt path circulating the lake. Although he'd only seen the park when he was a child, he still remembered some of the trees and the small play area he and his brother used to mess around on, each competing to get the the highest on the old swing set. 

He smiled at the sound of a baby jay. His younger self had seen them in books but he'd never seen one in real life. Still, just because he would never be able to see one didn't mean he couldn't recognise them in other ways. 

A few months ago he'd had a lot of spare time on his hands whilst waiting for an interesting case to come his way (being at the bottom of a law firm meant that you got all the cases that no one else wanted; one spectacularly odd one was about custody of a cat in a divorced couple), so he'd found an audio book about different bird songs and now he was able to recognise the difference between a chaffinch and a goldfinch by sound alone. 

His brother called him a nerd.

He heard the tell-tale _'peck-peck-peck'_ of a woodpecker and just as he was thinking how quiet the park was this afternoon (as usually children could be heard screaming and running about), something hard hit his shoulder with enough force that he staggered backwards.

The other person didn't even apologise so Sam scowled and righted himself. Obviously, the idiot didn't know what a white stick meant.

Sam continued down the path and frowned again when a hand caught the same shoulder that had been hit.

"What?" Sam snapped, already having a feeling that it was the same person from before. The hand was large and strong, so Sam guessed that it was a man that was holding him captive.

"You- You're- What's your name?" The guy stuttered and his voice was deeper than Sam expected, gravelly, but not unkind. In fact, he sounded shocked.

He still hadn't apologised though.

"Why? What's it to you?" Sam asked testily and there was a long pause during which Sam considered walking away. Finally, the man spoke and there was an air of disappointment about it.

"You're blind."

Sam grated his teeth together, irritation and no small amount of offence setting in. 

"Yeah, didn't you see the stick when you slammed into me?" He waved said stick around for emphasis, not really caring if he hit the other man with it.

"No, I mean you can't see all of-" the man abruptly cut himself off as if only just realising Sam didn't have a clue what he was talking about.

Then came the punchline.

"We're soul mates."

And really, there was only so many times a blind man could hear that line before he started throwing things.

"Whatever, jerk," muttered Sam as he turned on his heel and continued his walk.

Kids used to say things like that to him in high school, to watch his face light up as he embarrassed himself over asking if they'd like to go out with him sometime, only to laugh when they told him that they'd been joking and he'd flush bright pink and leave the room as fast as possible.

One girl had even gone out with him for three months on a bet that he would be so gullible to believe anyone who told him they were soul mates. She won a hundred dollars out of that bet. That was in university, before he'd met Jessica.

Did this moron really think that he'd fall for another stupid prank. It was something a college jock might do, yet the guy sounded much older than that. Maybe he was just immature.

 _"Wait!"_ The other man caught up to him and grabbed his shoulder again.

"Get off," growled Sam as he slapped the hand away. "And leave me alone. You've made your joke, now stop harassing me."

The other man paused. "Joke? I fail to see what's so funny." And that sounded like real confusion.

Or good acting.

"Haha. You played a prank that thirteen year olds do." Those few years of high school had stung Sam. Especially when he was first trying to adjust to being blind. Some of his peers hadn't been kind to him and Dean couldn't beat up everybody (although he did try and got suspended for it).

" _'Prank'_?" Now the guy really did sound lost. Did that mean...? Surely, they couldn't be... could they?

"You know, pretend you're soul mates with the blind man because he can't see?" Sam asked, testing if the man would laugh it off and confirm his suspicions that this was a hoax.

There was a silence and Sam idly realised he didn't know the man's name.

"...Why would I do that? That sounds like something a small child would attempt."

And now Sam was half-convinced that the guy was telling the truth, just because of his (slightly) offended tone. He had, after all, chased after him when Sam had walked away.

"Okay, if this is a joke, this has gone far enough," _'because I'm starting to believe you,'_ is what he didn't say. "Just tell me the truth."

He took a deep breath, not really prepared for the answer to his next question being _'yes'_.

"Are we soul mates?"

Without missing a beat, the other man replied.

"Yes."

His voice was so confident, so unwavering that Sam's pulse actually sped up. The other man seemed to notice his stunned silence and he quickly grabbed Sam's hand to shake it.

"Castiel Novak," he introduced and Sam vaguely realised that that was a really weird name.

"Uh... Sam. Winchester." Was this really happening? Had he met his true soul mate?

"Castiel... what is it you actually see?" He had to be sure.

"Colour," Castiel responded automatically. "It's... breathtaking. Everything here looks different. The grass, the lake, the sky. They're all so beautiful." 

Sam had a feeling the other man had focused his attention back onto him.

"You look different. Your hair is the same colour as the bark of the trees, you're shirt looks like the sky and your eyes are..." he trailed off, puzzled.

"Hazel," finished Sam. Dean had told him what colour his eyes were once before and he knew Castiel was only comparing different shades with each other because he actually didn't know the words for each individual colour. How would he; he'd never seen blue, or green, or yellow before.

That's why there were picture books for colours, which may be presented like a children's book with big blocky letters stating _'red'_ or _'purple'_ , but they were wholly necessary if you wanted to know what you were looking at.

He remembered reading one of his dad's back when he could see and everything just looked like varying shades of grey, but to some, it looked like a _Dulux_ colour chart.

Castiel paused and Sam had a feeling he'd just cocked an eyebrow.

"My brother told me," he explained and Castiel murmured in acknowledgement.

There was a shared moment of silence between them and Sam wondered if it was because Castiel was upset that he had been landed with a blind man as his soulmate. The thought made him frown. Jessica had always been very patient and understanding with him and here was his soul mate who didn't seem all that interested in him.

"Right. Nice meeting you then," said Sam as he turned and began to walk away.

"Wait, what?" Castiel asked, startled as he jogged to catch up. Must be shorter than him, Sam noted. 

"I tell you we're soul mates and you just... _leave?_ "

"You seemed pretty disappointed that I'm blind. I'm sure you'll find someone more to your tastes," huffed Sam, his heart aching at the thought.

Suddenly, Castiel grabbed his arm and whirled him around.

"I'm not disappointed that you're blind, Sam. I'm disappointed that you can't see how beautiful everything looks in colour. I wanted to share it with you, but if I can't then that's okay."

Sam paused. That wasn't what he'd expected. Castiel seemed to notice his internal struggle because he quickly elaborated.

"I have no desire to treat you like a burden. Being unable to see doesn't define who you are and if you really are my soul mate, I want to attempt to forge at least a friendship between us." He hesitated. "I wouldn't like to stand by and let you get away knowing we are matched for each other."

Years of distrust for his peers and years of cruel words making him feel like he was somehow broken, burned in his mind.

"You'll have other soul mates. Ones that can probably see fine. I won't be your only match."

"Yet fate has not led me to them."

And, yeah, that may have warmed his heart just a little.

"Sam, can we at least get to know each other before you break up with me?" Castiel asked and Sam swore he heard the tiniest bit of amusement in those gravelly words.

"...Okay," agreed Sam, finally and he sensed a change in Castiel, like he was quietly excited. Or it might just have been Sam's own excitement at finally meeting the person he was meant to be with.

Even if it didn't work out, at least he would have a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Criticisms? Improvements? Did you actually like anything?
> 
> Once again, I'm open to requests (I get bored otherwise). Happy March. :)


	3. Chapter 3

His phone buzzed insistently in his pocket, a testament to how aggravated the caller was at his ignorance.

Gabriel grinned brightly when Dean frowned at the fourth session of ringing.

"You must be popular."

Gabriel chuckled even though his stomach was turning over. He knew who was ringing him and that fact alone was enough to make him want to smash his phone into millions of tiny pieces and never have to see that name again.

"Something like that," said Gabriel as he reached into his pocket to switch off the device. He was going to be in a lot of trouble when he eventually got home. Maybe he could stay with his cousin a little longer than planned?

"You don't have to keep ignoring them because I'm here. I'm not offended, man," said Dean as he ordered another pint.

"Nah. It's no one important. Besides, I hate it when people sit on the phone when they're in company."

Dean shrugged. "Well, don't think you have to ignore everyone because you're with me." He sipped at his beer, flashing a smile at the pretty bartender when she leaned over a little further than necessary, thereby giving Dean the perfect view of her two assets. 

Gabriel snickered to himself and Dean rolled his eyes when she turned away. In the two weeks they'd known each other, Gabriel had noticed that Dean seemed to get a lot of attention from the ladies (and some men too). Sure, Dean was good-looking, but some of those looks suggested that these people knew something about Dean that he wasn't privy to.

When one woman had prowled up to the younger man, eyes glinting with intent and clothes revealing way more than necessary, and had blatantly stated that she thought they should go back to Dean's house for _'some fun'_ , Dean had had no choice but to explain to Gabriel what his reputation consisted of.

Gabriel had found that stunted discussion highly amusing.

"So, Gabe. How long are you here for? I take it your cousin won't want you staying in his pad indefinitely."

Gabriel blinked as he was snapped out of his musings and he was harshly reminded why he was in this little town in the first place.

"Why? You getting tired of me already?" Teased Gabriel and Dean held his hands up with a chuckle.

"Just curious. Sam wouldn't be able to stand me being in his place for three days, let alone three weeks. Your cousin must never be at home, or you've blackmailed him into letting you stay."

Gabriel winked. "You know me well, kiddo."

"Please, you're only six years older." He swirled his beer idly. "Well? You going to answer my question or not?" Asked Dean just when Gabriel thought he'd be able to avoid the subject entirely.

No such luck.

"Not sure really," he said casually, even though his heart was racing and his mind was flooded with the memories of why he'd come here. "'Till Cas kicks me out, I suppose."

Dean frowned at that and Gabriel internally cursed himself for letting onto the fact that he was skirting around his background.

Dean seemed willing to let it go this time.

"Well, if you're looking for work, I know Ellen Harvelle is hiring at _The Roadhouse_. She could use a good chef. Ash is an intelligent guy, but he shouldn't be anywhere near a kitchen." Dean pulled a face and Gabriel smiled at the fact that the other man had remembered his hobby from that first day they'd met.

"They friends of yours?"

Dean smiled fondly and Gabriel couldn't help but copy the gesture.

"They're my family. Or they might as well be."

"Huh. I'll keep that in mind then," replied Gabriel as he glanced at his cocktail (edible this time as they were at a higher quality bar).

Maybe he could stay here and get a job. Buy his own house or flat and live the life that had been brutally ripped from him.

He knew that would never happen. He would go back home and be as miserable as he always was and he'd be too frightened to do anything about it, just like he always was.

"Cool," murmured Dean as he watched Gabriel from the corner of his eye and Gabe briefly worried that he was going to ask what was wrong. He could make something up, right? Something believable? 

"How's the partner?" Asked Dean suddenly and Gabriel's brain stuttered. Did Dean know? How did he find out?

"What do you mean?" Asked Gabriel blankly, heart pumping stressfully. 

Dean nodded towards his hand. "You're married, aren't you? That is a wedding ring?"

Gabriel blinked and his gaze snapped down to the gold band around his finger, like a chain that tied him to the life he loathed yet was a slave to.

"Oh, yeah. He's... fine. We're fine."

Dean didn't look convinced. "...Right. He okay with you being apart for so long? You've not really talked about him much."

Gabriel shrugged in a way he hoped looked easy. 

"He works a lot and I needed a little break."

"Ah," Dean said knowingly. "You get into an argument?"

"We did," chuckled Gabriel sheepishly. It wasn't a total lie. He could keep this one up.

"You should sort it out together," said Dean wisely, as though he was speaking from experience. "Life's too short to hold petty grudges."

That made Gabriel cock an eyebrow and it was the perfect opportunity to deflect the attention away from him.

"You sound knowledgable in the subject. You married?"

"Was," murmured Dean bitterly as he downed the rest of his drink the way an experienced alcoholic would.

"Did you break up?" Asked Gabe curiously. He'd never really heard much about Dean's personal life other than his brother.

"She died. So did my son," muttered Dean in a way that suggested Dean's thoughts were heading in a dark direction.

"I... I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't realise..." Said Gabriel softly, heart aching for the man in front of him. Dean clearly loved his family and a tragedy like that was enough to break the strongest of men.

"You didn't know," murmured Dean quietly and Gabriel gently put a hand on his shoulder, a silent offer of support.

"Do you want to talk about it, or...?" Gabe asked, unsure what to do now.

Dean didn't answer for a long time and Gabriel slowly pulled his hand away, wondering if he'd upset the other man.

"She was my soulmate. We found each other at a bar like this and she was trying to escape this jerk that hadn't treated her right. She had taken her one year old son with her and this night she was looking to blow off some steam. We went back to her place and there was all this... colour. It was everywhere.

"We moved in together, bought a house, got married and we had a good life for nine years, watching Ben grow up, making the house look how we wanted it to.

"Then one day, I was coming home from work and it was like a switch had been flipped and everything was black and white again. When I got home, a nurse rang me to tell me that my family had been killed by a drunk truck driver."

Dean gripped his empty glass so hard Gabriel thought it might break.

"Dean..." Gabriel whispered softly. "I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Dean smiled hollowly. "'S not your fault. You got nothing to apologise for."

There was a moment of shared silence between them, before Gabriel's phone resurrected itself and the obnoxious ringtone blared in a cacophony of trumpets.

Dean chuckled as Gabriel apologised profusely, trying to switch the thing off.

"I must've caught the power button in my pocket," he said with a scowl as he tried to reject the dreaded caller.

"Don't worry about it," replied Dean. "Just take the call. It's fine."

Gabriel took the battery out.

"I swear it won't ring again," he grinned though he had to stop his hands from shaking when he thought about how much trouble he was in.

Dean shook his head in amusement, oblivious. "Right. So, you got plans on Tuesday?"

 

* * *

 

"Wait, how many languages do you know?"

"Thirteen. And ASL."

"What the- how did you learn thirteen languages and ASL?"

"ASL is a given considering I work with children who are hard of hearing. I took a triple language major and learned the others in my free time."

Sam raised an eyebrow so Castiel elaborated.

"My parents are politicians so a large variety of languages is useful for international exchanges."

"That's... really impressive, Cas."

"Says the man who can recognise the species of bird by the way it chirps."

Sam chuckled and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"It's just like learning a language, really. Nothing to shout about."

They were sat in Sam's apartment (thousands of dollars of university debt made it difficult to buy an actual house), settled on the couch as Cas poured over papers based around political intricacies and loopholes that even he struggled to decipher. 

Sam, on the other hand, was listening to audio files that spoke of his next assignment, giving him all the details of the divorced couple who were battling over ownership of the house and, to Castiel's amusement, custody of the dog.

"You learned Spanish and Latin," said Cas as he decided he'd lost interest with his work. "Only got a few more to go," he teased and Sam snorted in amusement.

"Don't think there's much point in me learning ASL."

"Depends. If you come with me to the children's home on weekends, you'll have no choice."

"I won't be able to see what they're signing back," deadpanned Sam and Cas chuckled.

"Just because they're deaf, doesn't mean they can't talk either. Sure, some prefer not to, but others are very vocal."

Sam paused and Cas had a feeling he had never thought about it like that.

"So you work in politics during the week and you volunteer at a children's home on the weekend. You got any other interesting stories to tell? Hobbies, favourite films, music?" Sam asked and Cas began to file his papers away.

"I play piano."

Sam hesitated. "I'd ask are you good, but I have a feeling I know the answer."

Castiel smiled. Sam was sweet and excellent at making people feel good about themselves.

"I'm no concert pianist, but I can read music well enough. Do you play?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. Braille sheet music is expensive and I can't play any instrument by ear. I'm not that talented," he chuckled and Castiel frowned at the self-depreciating attitude.

"That's not true," he protested. "You were the youngest to pass the bar exam in your year. You got promoted within a month of joining the firm. You are incredibly intelligent, Sam."

Sam blushed in embarrassment and Castiel thought it was rather adorable.

They continued with their respective tasks, but by this point, both were more interested in getting to know one another a little better, as they had been doing over the past three weeks.

"Maybe you can play for me some time," murmured Sam quietly and Cas felt his heart speed up in excitement. Sam wanted to hear him play piano. His soulmate was interested in his hobbies, in him.

"I'd like that," admitted Cas and a shy smile crept across Sam's face.

Cas glanced around the room. The colours meshed well with each other and he knew that Sam's brother, Dean, had a hand in the design because Sam had told him that at one time, when the older Winchester had the ability to see in colour, he had complained loudly and often about his brother's colour scheme, until Sam had no alternative but to fix the problem.

The couch was warm, inviting and cozy. _Red._ That's what those books he'd bought said the colour was. There were so many colours in the world, all with different shades and compositions, each complementing or clashing with each other to fascinate the eye.

He wished he could share it with Sam.

Maybe he could find a way.

"Are those headphones even plugged in?" Cas asked when he realised he couldn't hear the infrequent clicking noise of the old audio-playing device.

Sam smiled sheepishly and Cas laughed.

"To be honest, I've not been all that focused on my own assignment." He finished packing away the last of his papers. "Do you want to go out?"

Sam raised a curious eyebrow. "Out where?"

Castiel paused and thought for a few moments. Where would Sam appreciate going? Suddenly, it came to him.

"Isn't there an orchestra playing at the theatre tonight?"

"Yeah, but tickets are really expensive. I don't think I have enough money left over for this month."

Cas chuckled. "You don't honestly think I'd expect you to pay for yourself when I'm inviting you out?"

Sam opened his mouth to protest then clamped it shut again.

"I can't ask you to pay for me."

"You like movie-score music, don't you?"

Sam nodded his head.

"Then it's my treat."

Sam tried to argue but Cas wouldn't hear of it. He wanted to do something nice for the younger man. It didn't seem like many people did nice things for Sam. Castiel would change that.

The younger Winchester smiled gratefully and it warmed Cas' heart.

"Thank you, Cas."

"You're welcome. If we have to leave by seven, I suggest we eat now. Is takeout amenable to you?"

Sam nodded and when Cas reached for his wallet, Sam snatched it off him (to Castiel's surprise - the younger man must have good ears) and produced money from his own wallet.

"I can pay for this, at least," he smirked and Cas rolled his eyes.

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" Sam asked and Castiel blinked because how did Sam figure that out?

"Fine," said Cas reluctantly as he took the offered money. "But next time, I won't be so easy catch, no matter how superhuman your hearing is."

Sam beamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter! I have got 70% of the story figured out now, but I am open to change. Improvements, comments and criticisms are welcome!


	4. Chapter 4

Gabriel was acting weird. They'd known each other for four weeks now and Dean could tell that there was something wrong with his friend.

His phone had been on fire this past week and Gabriel rejected every call.

_Every. Single. One._

He still hadn't revealed much about his home life other than the fact that he and his cousin were very close and he'd been staying with him since he'd arrived in Dean's home town. He knew Gabriel had three older brothers that he didn't get along with very well, but he had no idea as to why. 

Gabriel was a friendly guy and everyone Dean had introduced him to had liked him. Even grumpy old Bobby.

Jo had become his best friend the moment they met and Dean was happy to see the bright smile appear on Gabriel's face as the two got on like a house on fire.

He refused to acknowledge the tiny spark of jealousy as he wished that he had been the one to put it there.

Still, Gabriel was making friends and that's what Dean had set out to do. The chef even volunteered to help out at Ellen's bar, to her delight (and the customers' relief). 

In those first three weeks, Gabriel had seemed excited at every little opportunity to get to know the people around him and for the past fortnight, Dean had found himself accompanying Gabriel to a bar or club nearly every night.

This past week though, something seemed off about the usually chipper chef.

He seemed nervous, twitchy even as he eyed his phone like it was going to murder him. He kept rubbing his arms and wincing every so often, and even though it was minute and Gabriel probably hadn't expected Dean to notice, he had.

So that evening, when they shuffled into a busy nightclub, they talked about their interests and their work, which soon developed into gossip about the locals (Gabe could be a real girl when he wanted to be), and then Dean would talk about his family and Gabriel would listen in rapt attention, but not offer anything about his own home life past his cousin.

As Dean concluded a story about when he and Sam were younger and they had participated in a prank war (Dean had found out early on about Gabriel's penchant for practical jokes and the pure delight that lit his eyes whenever anyone broached the subject), he noticed Gabriel idly rub his arm, as if self-conscious about it.

Dean frowned.

"Why do you do that?"

Gabriel blinked in surprise. "Do what?"

"That thing with you arms. Sometimes you do it with your legs too."

A nervous look flashed behind Gabriel's eyes, but it was gone quicker than Dean could identify it.

"What thing?"

Dean pulled a face and began to demonstrate with his own arms. 

"You rub them a lot. Why is that?"

Gabriel shrugged, but it seemed forced.

"Habit, I guess."

Dean's frown deepened at the flimsy lie, but it was clear that Gabriel didn't want to humour him.

An awkward silence fell between them, but Dean was too busy trying to work out his friend's odd behaviour to notice Gabriel growing steadily more uncomfortable.

"Malteser?" Gabriel suddenly offered and Dean realised he was trying to break the silence. Dean took the offered treat, far too used to Gabriel's affinity for sugary foods to question why he had a packet of Maltesers in his pocket, along with a variety of other colourful sweets that Dean was almost certain had been banned in the U.S.A.

As if on cue, the familiar chorus of Jason Derulo's _"Trumpets"_ blared from Gabriel's back pocket and immediately, he rejected the call.

"Okay, what's up, Gabe?" Dean asked finally, having had enough of his questions going unanswered.

"What do you mean?" Gabriel asked, confusion written all over his face even though Dean knew it was all a facade.

"You're constantly checking over your shoulder, you jump at every loud noise, you have a habit of rubbing your arms and sometimes I don't think you even know you're doing it, and you've rejected every single call for the past week. What's going on with you?"

Gabriel seemed to huddle in on himself slightly, but then he scowled at Dean.

"It's none of your business. Why can't you give it a rest? Why do you want to know so much about my stupid family anyway? You keep asking me questions even though you know I don't want to answer. Why can't you just leave me alone?"

Dean shook his head in irritation. "I don't understand what you have to hide. I've told you my rotten life story, and you seem like a good guy, yet you've not told me a single thing about your home life. You avoid talk about your partner like the plague and I don't even know the names of your brothers. I don't know where you've come from or why you're here. So tell me, are you on the run from the government or something, because at this point, I'd believe anything!"

Dean threw his hands up to emphasise his point and he was surprised to watch Gabriel lean away from him slightly.

"I don't want to talk about it, okay?" Gabriel muttered after a moment and Dean frowned as he lowered his voice.

"What's wrong, man? You can tell me. I promise it won't change anything."

"I don't want to talk about it, Dean!" Snapped Gabriel and then his eyes widened and he shrunk in his seat a little.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout."

Luckily for them, the music was so loud on the dance floor that no one even acknowledged their existence, but Dean swore he saw a flash of fear in the other man's eyes.

"...That's okay. I pushed too far. Sorry," said Dean, but his curiosity had been piqued. Why had Gabriel seemed so afraid in that moment? What was making the charismatic chef so subdued and anxious?

"I have to go home next week," said Gabriel quietly, not meeting Dean's gaze.

Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. You going to work things out between you and Richard?"

Gabriel face contorted into a grimace and Dean would have missed it if he hadn't been staring at him all this time.

"Something like that," replied Gabriel and there was something off about that tone too. "He called me to say he wants me to come home."

"Well, that's a start," said Dean encouragingly, but he had a feeling that Gabriel wasn't reassured by his lover's insistence that he go back.

"I may not see you again, Dean."

Dean paused. Not only did that sound ominous, but it also meant that Gabriel lived quite a fair distance away. Wait, he wouldn't be able to see his friend again? 

"I'm only a call away," said Dean, a deep sense of foreboding settling in his stomach. Something really wasn't right here...

Gabriel smiled hollowly, and that expression would haunt Dean's dreams tonight.

"You know you're always welcome to crash with me. If you're ever passing."

Dean hoped it didn't sound too desperate, but he didn't like the idea of letting his friend go back to a home he didn't know anything about and a partner who could've been a T-rex in drag for all Dean knew. Gabriel's out-of-character attitude wasn't doing anything for Dean's confidence either.

"Thank you, Dean," said Gabriel gratefully, the tiniest fragment of what Dean swore was hope settling in his eyes.

"Right," nodded Dean, swallowing the lump that had caught in his throat. "Keep in touch."

Gabriel smiled, but his eyes remained dull.

 

* * *

 

Sam's hand paused mid-way through a knock as the door swung open. Castiel was talking heatedly with someone over the phone (if the quiet replies were anything to go by) and Sam worried that he'd come at a bad time.

He toyed with the idea of leaving when Castiel put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and guided him inside the house. 

"Gabriel, no- No, Gabriel! Don't go- Why?! Because the man is a psychopath! He- No, I know, but- He's no good for you, Gabe!" Castiel paused as there was a lengthy explanation from the other end. "I know that, but I don't want to see you hurt... Please, Gabriel... You can stay with me, I don't mind- Don't say that." Another pause and Castiel's temper was flaring once more. "You know that's not true. Don't you see? He's manipulating you! I don't get why you're still with him! You- Yes, you are, Gabriel. Don't leave, please- No, we aren't done- Don't hang up- No, this is about your wellbeing- No, Gabriel-"

A tense silence fell around the room and Sam shifted uncomfortably, wondering what could have made the usually calm and placid Castiel so furious.

The older man sighed quietly and the soft beep of the phone being placed back on its receiver could be heard.

"Apologies, Sam," said Castiel defeatedly and Sam's brain immediately shifted into concerned mother hen mode.

"What's wrong?" He asked as Castiel plopped onto the couch, patting the seat beside him for Sam to do the same.

"My cousin isn't known for making the best decisions," came the solemn reply, cadenced by a weary sigh.

Sam tilted his head curiously.

"He's not in the best of places at the moment," continued the older man and Sam nodded encouragingly, prompting Castiel to shift in his seat to better face his friend.

"My cousin, Gabriel, he... He attempted a relationship with the man that was supposed to be his soul mate and for a while, everything was fine. Except, they tumbled into a relationship without learning anything about each other first."

Castiel hesitated. "I'm sorry, you don't need to know about this. Would you-" 

Sam quickly reached out and placed a hand on what he assumed was Castiel's shoulder. Whatever the situation this 'Gabriel' had found himself in, it was causing his friend distress and Sam would do all he could to diminish his concern.

"What's going on with Gabriel?" He asked softly and Castiel seemed to slump under his touch. Whether it was out of defeat or relief, Sam wasn't sure.

"...My cousin is being abused by his partner."

Sam's eyebrows rocketed to his hair line.

"I thought you said they were soul mates?" 

The other man sighed once more and Sam quickly decided he hated that sound of weariness and depression. It was surprising how much he'd come to care about his friend's happiness in the mere four weeks they'd known each other.

"They are," replied Castiel, quietly. "Or they were. As I said, they entered a relationship without getting to know one another. I'm not entirely certain why they were matched for each other in the first place. They are both equally sharp-witted, cunning and partake in many... promiscuous activities, but that is where their similarities end. 

"Gabriel is mischievous and gets into trouble more often than not, but he has a good heart and he is loyal to those he cares about. His partner... is not. As far as I'm concerned, the man has no redeeming qualities; he schemes and plots and is downright spiteful towards those who do not give him what he desires. He's ambitious, but not in the way you'd hope.

"After a mere three months, the pair decided to get married. I thought it unwise at the time, but Gabriel assured me they were in love. For the next six months, things seemed to be going well for them; they bought a house, found respectable jobs, made new friends and lived an ideal lifestyle.

"Then Gabriel suddenly stopped calling me."

Castiel sounded pained, mind obviously lost in dark memories and Sam made sure to shuffle a little closer to him until their knees brushed. It gave his friend the courage to continue.

"It was unusual to have a fortnight without hearing from him, so after a month of silence I rang him to find that the number no longer existed. Nor did his mobile. He lives a few states over so you can see why I couldn't just visit him whenever I wanted. Still, I had to see why he'd changed his number without telling me. so I flew to his house.

"He seemed off. Secretive and subdued, and he kept looking at his partner, Richard, as though seeking approval. The house was the same as I remembered it, but my cousin's clothes seemed different, more formal than usual. 

"Richard is a business man. A very highly respected one at that and it seemed as though he was forcing my cousin to change his style in order to suit his social standing. I asked him about his sudden change of wardrobe and Gabriel tensed and refused to answer. I was kicked out soon after.

"I continued to check on him every week for the next two months and even though my wallet suffered, I'm thankful I did, because it was only on the eighth week did I notice the bruises on my cousin's arm.

"I cornered him about it and he just... broke down. He told me everything. That Richard had been forcing him to change his clothes because he said he was _'ashamed'_ of going out with someone who looked as Gabriel had. He told me that Richard had forced him to cut down his hours working at the restaurant as head chef, as he didn't want other people looking at his soul mate. He told me that Richard was leaving him alone in the house more often, sometimes only coming home at three a.m. smelling of rich perfumes and with the barest hints of a woman's makeup on his collar.

"He also told me that ever since he'd questioned his so-called soul mate about his late nights out, Richard had become rough with him. Not caring if he hurt him during their love-making, until one day, Richard actually hit Gabriel across the face for questioning him about the lipstick on his collar. 

"He said that's when he noticed his universe had become slightly more grey in their time together. After that, Richard seemed to take a sick pleasure in hitting and threatening my cousin and whenever Gabriel tried to leave, he would send one of his _'associates'_ to locate him and bring him back to the house for _'punishment'_.

"Richard is a very powerful man in the world of business and eventually Gabriel was too frightened of him and his colleagues to do anything to stop his maltreatment. So I managed to get him here for a couple of months in hopes that he would be able to start afresh.

"Unfortunately, he was so terrified of his husband at this point, that nothing I said or did could make him stay indefinitely, and he eventually returned home to his abusive spouse, who is courting a woman from his firm.

"I managed to convince him to visit me when he had an unusually large argument with Richard last month, but he has just called to tell me that he will be returning home shortly, which is expected, but I had hoped for change."

Castiel sounded defeated, so Sam gently squeezed his shoulder.

"Can't you call the police? Abusive spouse is definitely grounds for a lawsuit."

"I tried a couple of times. Richard is highly adept at hiding his... work. He threatened Gabriel so much that when the police took him aside, my cousin assured them that everything was fine, even as he wore fifteen layers of makeup to conceal his scars and bruises. After that, the police told me to stop harassing them."

Sam scowled. "You said this guy's a business man? Which firm?"

"Roman Enterprises."

Sam paled, eyebrows raised. 

"Your cousin is married to Richard Roman?"

Castiel chuckled humourlessly. "Not as great as it sounds."

Sam shook his head. "No wonder you can't get any authorities on your side. He's probably paying them all off." He paused. "When you said 'business man' I didn't think you meant one of the biggest, international financial figures in the world."

"I did say he was rather powerful."

"Cas, he could pay off the judge, jury, and the entirety of Northern America's police force without making a dent in his wallet."

Castiel was quiet for a few moments and when he spoke, he sounded like he was contemplating something.

"You called me _'Cas'_."

Sam paused when he realised that he had, in fact, given his friend a nickname without realising.

"Sorry."

"No, no. I like it. People don't usually shorten my name, that's all," said Castiel and Sam swore he could hear a smile in those words. "Anyway, I'm quite aware of his abilities in the financial department, which only makes it harder to rescue my cousin from his possessive hold. I'm not entirely sure it's possible, to be honest."

Sam frowned once more. "We will get him out of there. Don't lose hope."

" _'We'?_ "

Sam was surprised at that. Sure, they hadn't known each other for all that long, but it didn't mean that Sam wasn't willing to help Castiel get his family out of a tight spot. That's what friends did, right?

"I'm not going to let another corporal fat-cat get away with abusing someone just because he thinks his money gives him the right to do so."

There was another bout of silence, but Sam had a feeling that Castiel was smiling softly at him.

"Thank you, Sam."

The younger Winchester cocked a half-hearted smile at him before Castiel spoke again, tone light and teasing.

"So, I suppose I have my own personal lawyer working on my case?"

Sam chuckled. "I suppose you do. There's no dog is there? I don't want to have to settle another debate on who gets to keep the dog."

Castiel laughed quietly and Sam grinned at the sound. It was rare to hear the other man laugh, but Sam thought that those few occasions where he did were rather wonderful with the way they made his chest go all light and tingly.

His soulmate had a beautiful laugh. 

"Enough about my family's problems," said Castiel, finally. "Tell me about you and your family, Sam."

Sam nodded and settled back into the couch, explaining about his brother and the mother he could barely remember, and the father who hadn't made much of an appearance in his life, despite having two young sons who depended in him. He told his soul mate about Uncle Bobby, who they weren't actually related to, but who had treated them as his own sons (and berated a drunken John Winchester when he thought he deserved it for practically abandoning his children). He told them about the others too, like Ellen and Jo and Ash, and three hours later, when the two eventually stopped conversing to realise that their stomachs were trying to tell them something, Castiel offered to take Sam to the local Thai restaurant. 

Sam happily agreed, but frowned when Cas batted his wallet away and stated "This one's on me, if you remember," and there was nothing Sam could do but stick his tongue out and be subjected to Castiel's soft laugh, to which he was becoming quickly addicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this written for ages and I forgot about it... Whoops.


	5. Chapter 5

"You don't have to do this," murmured Dean quietly. "You can go ahead to the bar and I'll meet you there when I've finished."

Gabriel shook his head. "I'm here now, Dean-o. You might as well have a bit of company whilst you're here and it's not like I've got anything to do anyway." He was supposed to be going home tomorrow.

Dean offered him a weak smile as they entered the cemetery. His expression quickly turned solemn as he neared the polished headstone that belonged to his wife and step-son and he meticulously arranged the lilies he'd brought, removing the old ones from the flower basket.

"Hey, Lisa," he greeted softly. "Ben."

Gabriel felt his heart clench as he gave his friend some room. There was something so vulnerable about Dean here and Gabriel wasn't used to seeing the man anything but gruff and strong. 

"This is Gabriel. The friend I was telling you about. He wanted to come and see you today," murmured Dean so quietly Gabriel had to strain to hear him.

Dean lowered himself to the ground and crossed his legs in a movement that looked like it had been performed countless times over the years. It made Gabriel's heart hurt.

He carefully copied Dean's motions and the younger man looked at him in surprise, but didn't say anything as he turned back to the grave.

When Dean began to talk to his family, telling them about all that had happened in the week; what he and Gabriel had been up to and how uncle Bobby and Ellen and Jo were doing; how Ash had been permanently banned from the kitchen after he had set the fridge on fire and Gabe had quickly put it out, the older man was holding back tears.

It was heartbreaking to watch such a confident man be reduced to this quiet, forlorn mess and Gabriel couldn't help but wonder how Dean had managed to carry on after his wife and son's tragic deaths. He had lost everything in the span of two minutes and hadn't been able to do anything about it. It was enough to break a lesser man.

Yet here Dean was, staying strong and continuing life even if it didn't hold the same meaning to him anymore. Gabriel wished he could change that. He wished he could do something to let Dean move on and maybe rid him of some of the heavy pain he carried. 

But what could he do? It's not like he could magically revive Dean's soulmate.

There was a lull in Dean's soft chatter and Gabriel caught the younger man turning his head away slightly, so Gabe couldn't see the tears rolling down his cheeks. Gabe bit his lip in sympathy and averted his gaze.

"Hey guys," he greeted quietly as Dean tried to pull himself together. "I've not known Dean all that long, but he's told me a lot about you."

Dean paused and subtly slid his gaze towards Gabriel. The younger man's eyes were full of surprise and a strange sense of wonder.

Gabriel relaxed and a small smile slipped across his face. Dean never visited the grave with company but whilst Gabe was here, he could comfort his friend; offer him a shoulder to lean on when no one else would. Even if it was only for today, Gabriel could make sure Dean didn't have to mourn alone.

"He's told me all about the days when you first started courting," continued the older man. "When you carved your names into that oak tree as if you were kids again. Then you got banned from the park because you didn't realise it was a protected tree that had been standing for over two-hundred and fifty years."

He quirked a grin as he heard Dean chuckle softly at the memory.

"And he's told me all about you, Ben. The day you brought that stray kitten home on your way back from school and you begged your mum and dad to keep it, but your dad ended up sneezing so much the next week that you had to give it away."

Gabriel felt the tension dissipate from his body. Whilst he was here, in this place of sanctuary with Dean, it felt as if he wasn't going to go back home to his abusive lover the very next day; as if he could stay in this town forever and be happy with his cousin and all the new friends he'd made.

Gabriel shook his head in amusement. "He even told me about all the little things you used to do on weekends, like go for ice cream or visit Uncle Sam in Harvard. He says you and Sam used to gang up on him in prank wars," grinned Gabriel. "Well kiddo, I would've loved to see those. I'm a bit of an expert in pranks myself," he winked. 

He soon sobered though, because how unfair was it that these two wonderful people who Dean adored and idolised had been struck down so young, so cruelly? Gabriel would never get to meet Dean's little family even though he'd heard all the tales and it made him contemplate his own life with Richard. 

Here were two people who had made what they wanted out of life, despite initially starting in a bad place, and they had enjoyed their time on Earth; had lived life to the full. Then they'd been killed.

Ben had only been ten.

Gabriel blinked back a few tears. What was he doing with his life? He was stuck in a loveless marriage with a partner who abused him and he was so frightened to leave the guy, he hated his own life. What was the point in living if he couldn't make his own choices? He should be enjoying himself before it was too late; before what happened to Ben and Lisa could happen to him.

...But that would mean going home to collect his belongings. And Richard would never let him leave. 

If only Richard loved him as much as Dean loved Lisa.

"Y'know, Lisa... your husband is a really good man," murmured Gabriel quietly, unable to stop the flow of words inspired by his dark thoughts. 

"I came here with no friends, no job and very few ideas of what to do now I was here. Then Dean came along and he stuck with me, introduced me to your friends and family, made me feel welcome in a town I knew nothing about. He offered to help me when no one else would and there aren't many people like that out there." The older man twiddled his thumbs, a troubled expression resting on his face.

"I don't know what I would have done without him." He shook his head. "Then again, I'm sure you already know how kind he is. It's probably why you married him."

He fell into silence but turned his head when he was aware of someone watching him.

He found Dean gazing at him warmly, eyes grateful and smile almost... tender. 

Something in Gabriel's stomach stirred and he found his own gaze sliding to Dean's perfect lips. He wondered what shade of pink they were.

"You know you're always welcome here," murmured Dean with a small smile. "Anytime you want to visit or just call. You know I'll be here."

Gabriel licked his suddenly dry lips.

"Yeah," he choked out. "Thanks, Dean."

What was he doing? He was married!

To a man he hated.

Gabriel shook his head frantically to clear it and stood as Dean climbed to his feet.

The younger man kissed two fingers and placed them against the headstone in a manner that made Gabriel's heart twist. He glanced at the tiny angel engraved at the top of the headstone.

"Angels are watching over them," he stated, voice barely above a whisper and Dean whipped his head around to stare at him.

"...Mom used to say that to me and Sammy when we were kids," he croaked out, voice thick with emotion and Gabriel offered him a sad smile. Dean had lost so many people in his short life.

The younger man shook his head after a few moments and nodded towards the cemetery exit.

"C'mon, I think I need a drink."

Gabriel silently followed.

 

* * *

 

"I don't want to go home," frowned Gabriel after three whiskeys, tongue starting to loosen now he had some alcohol flowing in his veins. He also felt rather relaxed in Dean's company. The other man had a nice smile, even if he couldn't see it's true colours.

"Why?" Asked Dean, staring into his glass as if it held the answers to the universe. Or maybe he was just wondering why there was barely anything in it.

"I like it here," replied Gabriel. "I have friends here." 

Dean frowned as he turned to stare at the older man.

"Surely you have friends at home?"

Gabriel shook his head. "Not really. I don't go out all that much."

Dean's frown deepened into a confused scowl.

"You don't seem the type to be a hermit," he mused and Gabriel shrugged.

"Richard likes me to be at home." _Whoops._ Had he really meant to admit that? Oh well.

Dean swivelled in his seat to face him fully, expression impressively serious.

"He doesn't stop you from going out though, does he? I mean it's your decision to stay in the house isn't it?"

Gabriel pulled a face. "Mostly. Well... I mean... sometimes."

Dean didn't look too pleased.

"It's your life, Gabe. You can do whatever you want with it. Not everyone gets to see in colour; you should enjoy the world now you have such a fantastic opportunity."

Gabriel blinked at the black and white image of Dean before his eyes widened in realisation. Dean thought Richard was still his soulmate which meant he also thought Gabe could see in perfect colour. If only he knew...

"Hm," was all Gabriel said, making Dean frown. The younger man didn't need to know about his awful life; Dean already had enough concerns of his own. Gabriel wouldn't be a very good friend if he offloaded all of his own problems onto Dean. Besides, he was leaving tomorrow anyway and he'd probably never get to see his friend again.

Dean looked unsettled by Gabriel's non-reply.

"Listen, Gabe," he said, surprisingly sober now he was worried for his friend. "Is everything okay with you... with Richard?"

Gabriel tried to keep his expression neutral. The fuzzy alcohol-induced haze had suddenly cleared from his mind and he didn't want to let Dean onto the fact he didn't have the best of domestic lives.

He rubbed his arm subconsciously and grimaced when Dean's gaze tracked the movement.

"I'm fine," he muttered. "We're fine. I'm just... nervous how to approach him after this last argument. It was a big one." It wasn't a complete lie.

Dean's gaze softened. "If you really love each other, you should just forgive and forget. Life's too short for petty grudges," he said wisely before gently reaching out to stop Gabriel from rubbing his arm.

The second their skin touched, Gabriel had to suppress a gasp.

_Green._

Dean's eyes were _green._ Like grass. Or trees.

Dean's eyes widened and he suddenly recoiled as if burned as he gaped at Gabriel's golden eyes.

They stared at each other for a moment, Dean clearly shocked and Gabriel trying his best to not look as though he'd just seen colour for the first time in fifteen years.

His heart was racing. He couldn't see any other colour except green, but there was no mistaking what that implied.

Except they could never work because Gabriel was married and Dean wasn't gay.

...Except if their souls thought they were at least a little compatible, did that mean that maybe he was?

Gabriel watched the younger man gulp nervously and he quickly came to a decision.

"I'd better leave," he said calmly as if nothing had happened between them, and he slid off his stool and slapped a few dollars on the bar top.

Dean continued to stare at him as he began to walk away.

"Have a nice life, Dean," Gabriel said quietly, refusing to turn back (because if he did, he might decide to stay). He would never be able to see Dean again after what had just happened.

Wouldn't be able to stomach thinking about what could have been.

Just as he reached the door to the bar, he hesitated, wondering if Dean would stop him; ask him to stay and suggest they see what would happen if they chose one another. He wanted to see if Dean would offer him an alternative to the Hell his life with Richard had become.

Nothing happened.

Gabriel ignored the tear crawling down his face and left the bar.

 

* * *

 

"I'm beginning to think you like those dogs more than me," Castiel chuckled and Sam grinned as a Collie licked his nose.

"You've certainly got competition," teased the younger man and Castiel rolled his eyes as a labrador snuggled into Sam's side.

Castiel had come up with the brilliant idea of taking Sam to the local rescue shelter. The dogs needed more attention than the ten minutes of walking they got every day and both Sam and Castiel loved animals. It was win-win.

Plus Cas got to see Sam's gorgeous smile. 

The older man watched as three dogs and a tiny, fluffy puppy climbed all over Sam, each begging for attention and Cas couldn't help but grin as his soulmate laughed happily and wrestled with the four.

Castiel sat beside his friend and he didn't miss the way the younger man's face lit up. He could never get enough of Sam's beautiful smile; the flash of pearly white teeth that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. He'd done that. He'd caused Sam to express so much contentment and it made his heart rejoice.

An elderly greyhound padded over to Cas and he patted his leg invitingly, chuckling when the dog's tail began to wag and it rested its head on his knee as it lay down.

So busy was he stroking the dog's head that he was caught off-guard by Sam's hand cautiously sliding around his lower back.

The younger man's palm was large and warm on his spine and Castiel felt himself lean into the comforting contact.

"Thank you," murmured Sam. "For bringing me here. It was very thoughtful."

Castiel glanced at him with a frown before gently grabbing Sam's free hand.

"It breaks my heart when you say things like that," he muttered, "because it sounds as if you don't get nice things very often."

Sam turned away sheepishly, but Castiel squeezed his hand and the younger man quirked a shy smile.

"No one has ever treated me as kindly as you have," admitted Sam quietly. "Definitely not since Jessica..."

Castiel had been informed of Jessica; Sam's old lover and he couldn't deny that hearing of her now sparked something jealous inside him. The girl had ripped out Sam's heart when he was at his lowest point after being told of his sister-in-law and nephew's deaths, and Castiel didn't like the idea of Sam being hurt by her.

Yet he knew he couldn't condemn Jessica. She hadn't really done anything wrong. It's not like she had known of the tragic accident which had taken Lisa and Ben's lives, and finding a true soulmate was a wondrous and beautiful thing; not everybody found theirs and it would have been rather cruel to have forced Jess to stay with Sam when she knew who her true soulmate was. They might have been good with each other but they just weren't a perfect match and that was that. 

For Castiel, this was a great thing, because it meant that he got Sam all to himself (and he didn't care how selfish that sounded; he was going to lavish all his attention on his otherwise deprived soulmate).

"Well, you better get used to it," chuckled Cas. "Because I'm not planning on leaving any time soon."

Sam grinned. "Good."

Cas felt his heart somersault with joy. His soulmate wanted him to stay.

Suddenly, Sam's face twisted into something shy and embarrassed.

"Um... Cas? Can I... can I feel what you look like? I can sort of imagine you, but I... I kind of want to know what you really look like."

Castiel blinked in surprise before he felt like slapping himself. Of course! Sam had never asked to touch him before so he had no idea who he was talking to. He could've been dating a talking frog for the past five weeks for all he knew.

"Of course," replied Cas as he gently guided Sam's hand towards his face.

The younger man's hand was tender and light as it explored Castiel's cheeks and lips and nose. His fingertips glided over Cas' closed eyelids and ears and Castiel caught Sam's smile growing the longer he explored.

Eventually, he drew his hand away.

"You're very handsome," he confessed, cheeks flushing an adorable pink, and Castiel was incredibly grateful for being able to see in colour, if only to watch his soulmate's skin redden with embarrassment. It made him chuckle and he held Sam's retreating hand as he grazed his lips over the back of his knuckles.

"You're one to talk," he murmured, and this time Sam really did go red.

Sam stumbled over his words as he tried to stutter out a reply, but before he could form a coherent sentence, his phone rang, blaring out the introduction to Guns 'n' Roses' _'Sweet Child of Mine'._

Sam frowned.

"It's my brother," he said confusedly and Castiel cocked an eyebrow.

"It's okay. Take the call."

Sam pulled an apologetic expression before pressing the answer button.

He stiffened at Dean's panicked tone.

_"I don't want another soulmate."_

Sam paused. Then he turned to a curious Cas and put his phone on speaker.

"I think you need to start from the top, Dean," stated Sam slowly, trying to calm his stressed brother.

There was a shaky gulp from the other end of the line before Dean began to explain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I woke up this morning and got the urge to start work on this again! :D I don't know why or what happened but I thought I'd write another chapter before my muse decided to wander off again! Hope you guys enjoy the update and I'm so sorry this has been on hiatus for so many months! Improvements welcome.

**Author's Note:**

>  _theycallmetrickstr_ wrote a lovely comment to me the other day and since they seemed so eager for a Debriel fic, I thought I'd do this little side project, which I got the inspiration for from Facebook (of all places). I can't tell you how many chapters it'll have because I've not got all the details sorted out yet. I'm open to ideas, criticisms or any other fic requests you may have. :) Happy browsing.


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